Not So Dotty
by clagjanet
Summary: An S4 story inspired by a conversation on the Just Walk With Me blog about Dotty's reaction to Amanda jumping out that bedroom window and what she might have learned about her daughter during that questioning.
1. Chapter 1

Dotty paused on the stairs for a moment to compose herself. The boys had looked so worried when she'd sent them up to their room that she knew she couldn't go up there looking as frazzled as she felt. She could hear Joe talking quietly to the agent who'd been interviewing her. It was calming to have someone like Joe here – he was such a solid comforting presence – and a lawyer which it seemed like they might need now. Unlike her, he also seemed to be maintaining his temper in the face of what she was sure was more stonewalling from that Mr. Melrose who had shown up not long after Amanda had apparently climbed out of her bedroom window and run off with federal agents chasing her through the backyard. It had taken her a moment to realize it was the same man who'd interviewed her after that crazy night with Andrei and those fake policemen who had tried to kidnap them. He'd been quite kind then and he was obviously trying to be again this time – he'd even suggested she call Joe for support – but this time, they were on the wrong side, and he wasn't quite as cheerful as he'd been back then.

Like mother, like daughter, she mused distractedly, getting mixed up with men who were on the run from something, although at least Amanda had met Andrei before – she'd only ever talked to this Lee Steadman fellow on the phone.

" _Stetson_ ," she reminded herself. " _She said his name was Stetson_." It was odd that in all these years Amanda had never corrected her when she had the name wrong.

" _Not as odd as her jumping out a window and running away with a fugitive,"_ prompted the little devil on her shoulder.

" _If Amanda ran off with him, he must be innocent_ ," countered the tiny angel. " _Amanda may do a lot of crazy things but always for a good reason."_

She looked up as an agent appeared at the top of the stairs, walking down with a stack of boxes in his arms.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked angrily.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. West." The agent actually managed to look genuinely apologetic. "There were a few things in Amanda's… I mean, in Mrs. King's room that we need to take as evidence."

"Well, I want an itemized list of what's in those boxes before you leave, do you understand me? Because you'll be slinking back in here bringing it all back before you know it!" she scolded. "I still can't believe any of you think she's done anything wrong!"

"Well, it's not really our job to think," replied the agent with self-deprecating honesty.

"Hey Fielder, let me help you with those," interrupted the agent who was stationed in the front hall. He stepped forward and took one of the boxes, but not before Dotty caught him giving Agent Fielder a look that was clearly meant to say "Shut up."

Agent Fielder, now looking quite abashed, let him take the top box and with a final apologetic look at her, stepped around Dotty and followed him out to the fleet of government cars that lined the street.

From her vantage point on the landing, her eye fell on a file folder that the second agent had put down on the hall table when he'd rushed to help with the boxes. As quickly and quietly as she could, she stepped down to snatch it off the table and then hurried upstairs to her room.

Stepping in, she closed the door behind her and glanced around. Everything was in its place, just as always, so they must have been serious when they said they'd only searched Amanda's room.

" _For now_ " she thought dourly. It seemed like they weren't finding any of the things they'd expected to, so unless Joe came up with some legal thing, they'd probably be back. She lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed with a sigh, and flipped open the file folder.

It didn't contain much, although the first thing she saw was a photo of Amanda, smiling up at her.

"Oh my poor baby, what are you mixed up in?" she asked out loud in a despairing tone as she ran a finger along the picture. Setting it aside, she began to look through the rest of the folder but it wasn't very helpful – nothing that said why Amanda and her friend were in trouble, just a list of contacts like their phone number and Joe's, the addresses of the boys' schools, a stock photo of her new Jeep – all the kinds of things they'd be flashing around the neighbourhood as they hunted for her.

" _Hunted for her_ " she grimaced inwardly. How was it possible that Amanda of all people was being hunted by the FBI or whoever these people were? It simply made no sense – none of this made any sense. And when she came home – and Dotty was sure this would all be cleared up any minute now and Amanda would be home where she belonged – it was going to be the talk of the neighbourhood for weeks.

She groaned as she quickly flipped through everything, her attention arrested by the final thing in the folder. She recognized it immediately – it was the same photo of Mr. Stetson that the first agent had shown her – the agent whose arrival made Amanda jump out a window to escape. She put down the folder and held the photo in both hands to study it.

So this was the mysterious Mr. Stetson, the man Amanda had insisted was just "in a little bit of trouble"… She stared down at the face that was grinning back up at her like some kind of movie star – gorgeous smile, dimples that seemed impossibly deep and clear eyes that looked open and guileless. He certainly didn't look like someone who would give away government secrets.

" _If he'd smiled at me like that,_ _I'd have jumped out a window with him too_ ," she admitted to herself. " _Oh Amanda, I hope you know what you're doing."_

She gave the photo one last glance, then carefully slipped the folder under her mattress where she thought it might be safe for now. She'd figure out a way to give it back later. Or maybe not – why should she help those awful men?

Standing up, she looked in the mirror, seeing the worry etched in the lines on her forehead. Taking a deep breath to settle herself, she stepped out into the hallway and tapped lightly on the boys' bedroom door. "Phillip? Jamie? Your father is here."


	2. Chapter 2

When she finally met him, this man who appeared to have cast a spell on her daughter, she didn't even recognize him at first, only partially because she hadn't been expecting him on the doorstep out of the blue like that.

"If you're the termite man…" she began, only to have him interrupt with a chuckle.

"I'm Lee Stetson, Mrs. West," he smiled at her as she tried not to look as flustered as she felt. "I work with Amanda?"

"Oh yes, of course… you look vaguely familiar."

Familiar? That was an understatement. If he only knew how often she'd studied that photo in the month since Amanda had run off with him, he'd be blushing much harder than he was now as she gazed up at him.

"You, uh, have a lovely home here." He was an odd mix of confidence and schoolboy blushes, as nervous as any teenage boy who'd come by looking for Amanda.

"Oh thank you," she replied as she led him further into the house. _"So why am I wondering why you've never been in it? No wonder Amanda's been so happy at work these past few years."_

She thought maybe she'd said that out loud, the way he laughed with embarrassment and later, she'd wonder what she actually talked to him about, so busy mentally comparing him to that picture, that she was sure it had all been gibberish. He was tall – much taller than she'd imagined – and handsome… gosh, his eyes were mesmerizing, twinkling down at her she rambled on about the boys. And then suddenly, his attention was gone – what was that phrase the boys used? Oh yes, zoned out… it was the perfect way to describe him as he stared off into space with a look of such sadness that she felt compelled to distract him.

"Why is it you said you were here?"

When his attention returned to her, the sadness was still there but the warmth in his eyes still shone through as he laughed at himself. "I'm sorry – I was just thinking…"

"I was just staring," she said with perfect truth before she could help herself. "You have no idea how many times I've wondered about you."

It was obvious he knew exactly what she meant and he begun to blush again and stammer out something about Amanda being away. She could have cursed that phone ringing just then.

"Well, she's usually with you," she pointed out and watched him flush with guilt again. She took the opportunity to study him while he was on the phone – she wasn't a fool, he was antsy about something and she wondered if maybe he and Amanda had had a fight. That, she thought, was why she hadn't recognized him at first; without a smile and with that furrow of worry between his eyes, he looked older than he did in the photo. But what could worry a film director so much?

When he finished his call though, and turned back to her with a smile, he seemed slightly more at ease, so perhaps that concern had been work-related after all.

It was odd though – he obviously needed to get back to work, even starting making excuses to leave but he lingered, chatting with her, even absent-mindedly helping her pick up the mess from the boys' dance party, seeming to know instinctively where things belonged. He stopped for a long time in front of the shelf of family photos, studying them before turning to her and physically shaking off whatever odd mood he was in.

"You have a lovely family, Mrs. West," he said in the deep honeyed baritone she'd only ever heard on the phone. "I'm sure Amanda can't wait to get home."

"Well, we certainly miss her when she's away," she answered pointedly.

Mr. Stetson shuffled in place just like Phillip and Jamie did when they were in trouble. "I know you do," he said, abashed. "And that's usually my fault, I'm afraid."

"Indeed. Some time I'd like to hear all the details of that grand adventure you went on with my daughter."

"Ah, now _that_ was just a big mistake," he answered hurriedly. "Nothing much to tell, really."

"Or not much you can tell me, I bet what with all the 'government secrets' involved. You sound just like Amanda!" She couldn't resist twisting the knife a little. "She hasn't told me enough about her job to fill a postcard – but then she comes home soaking wet, or scorched, or doesn't come home at all." She gave him a look that swept him from head to toe. "Although perhaps that last one makes a bit more sense now."

"Well, location work is always throwing up the unexpected," he stammered, running a finger along the inside of his collar, obviously uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "You know how it is."

"I don't actually – like I said, Amanda doesn't tell me a lot about her work. But perhaps since you're her boss, you could make sure she gets home safe and sound to her family a little earlier from now on?" she lectured him.

There was no mistaking the look of panic she'd caused with that last comment and without thinking, she reached up to straighten the tie he'd knocked out of kilter and give it a pat to try and ease his tension. She heard his swift intake of breath and then he grabbed her hand – to pull it away, she thought, but then he held onto it, close to his chest.

"I will do everything I can," he said fiercely. "I promise."

It made her a little nervous, watching him turn so serious, and she pulled her hand away. "I was only teasing, Dear – Amanda's a grown woman, I'm sure she can look after herself. She may seem scatterbrained sometimes, but you must know she's surprisingly strong-willed."

Mr. Stetson gave a choking laugh. "That she is. I'll try and remember that" It was amazing what a difference laughing made to his face – it was like watching a cloud lift, seeing those dimples deepen and his eyes warm up.

"Well, maybe she'll listen to you, since she doesn't to me. Get married again, I tell her, put on a few pounds, enjoy a routine for a while – would that be so bad?"

"Actually, that sound pretty good," he smiled at her. "I'll be sure to bring that up next time I see her."

"You do that." There was a long pause and she thought maybe he was about to say something else but then he shook himself again and gestured to the front door.

"I guess I better get going," he said, gaze sweeping the room as if he was trying to memorize it.

"Well, if you must. I imagine there's an editing room calling your name." She simply couldn't help teasing him – it really was exactly like having one of Amanda's high school sweethearts back on the doorstep.

"Not today," he replied. "Today, I have a much more important project to get wrapped up." He held out his hand. "It was nice to finally meet you, Mrs. West."

"Nice to finally meet you too, Mr. Stetson. Feel free to come by anytime."

She stood in the doorway, watching him pull away in his silver sports car.

"Who was that in the cool car, Grandma?" Phillip was racing up the front path, Jamie trailing behind.

"Well, Darling, I'm not entirely certain, but I think that just might have been Mr. Right."


End file.
